


tumbled like it was stone

by lacegloves



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, F/M, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-08-21 22:27:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16585448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lacegloves/pseuds/lacegloves
Summary: Link knew of the Bookmen only in passing. In his most early lessons they had learned the history of it all. Neah had founded the Order, fostered the first generation of Exorcists. In turn, his twin brother Mana, who many said was sick in the mind, founded the Archive, a vast collection of knowledge.… there was a director, but Link had never heard of him. He knew nothing of Mana’s descendants, or if he had any at all…





	tumbled like it was stone

 The window was cracked open that day, the spring air warm and laced with the scent of hawthorn blossoms. Some of the jostled petals tried to make their way to Allen’s feet and yet fluttered uselessly to the floor, a small gathering of white against the deep burgundy of the carpet.

Mismatched, like the eyes that strayed from the page to watch such a display.

He could still hear Mana’s flowing voice as he read scripture from a worn and well loved family bible. The translation was rough and yet Mana smoothed it out by filling in the awkward gaps with his own little flourishes. A lightly tanned hand waving through the air as if to command an orchestra that stood invisible around Allen’s little child-sized desk.

“For when I was a child… I spoke like a child…. I thought like a child and I reasoned like a child! But then when I became a man, I set aside my childish ways, it says…” Allen cared so little for the word of God, but to hear Mana speak was an experience all it’s own. He forgot the broken flowers on the floor and instead smiled softly as he watched the flutters of Mana’s robes.

It was nearly dancing, the way he moved, in any fashion. Smooth and graceful.

“Now we can see but a dim reflection as if looking in a shadowed mirror; but when the time comes we shall see face to face! Now I know in parts; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known…" He stopped short when he heard a chuckle echo through the room. Allen glanced over his shoulder at the source. Neah looked so identical to Mana and yet sharper, harsher, more clear and focused. His hair was cut shorter and framed his face neatly while Mana’s was long and flowed with the same excitement and vigor as did the rest of his body.

Full of life and light.

Allen vaguely wondered what that made Neah full of…

Those golden eyes swept from his beloved brother and settled on Allen, an attempt at a smile crawling over his lips as he strode toward them both. It wasn’t surprising truly, Neah spared little gentleness for others and instead seemed to hoard it for only Mana alone.

Honestly, Allen could relate to such sentiments.

“May I speak with you, Mana? ...There is news from headquarters.” Headquarters, The Black Order, as Allen more commonly knew it, was Neah’s ongoing project. Still in its infancy, the Order was, as Neah described it, meant to save mankind from what lurked in the darkness.

“Of cou-”

“Alone,” Neah said bluntly, his eyes narrowing just slightly as he continued to watch Allen. “I’m sure the boy would enjoy some fresh air, yes?”

Allen, as he understood it, was one of those monstrous things that Neah sought in the shadows. Something dark and twisted and broken.. The idea pulled a small smile from Allen’s lips as he stood from his chair. As if to taunt, he pressed up to Mana’s side and gently hugged himself against the man. Mana almost cooed, melting as he crouched down to return the child’s embrace. “It’s alright, go enjoy the sun, little Allen… run along…” Allen drew back just barely, standing on his toes to press a quick kiss to Mana’s cheek before he pulled away entirely.

He walked backwards for a bit, side stepping around Neah’s tense figure as he turned toward the hall. He lingered outside the door only a moment, only long enough to hear Neah’s gentle scolding.

“That child is cursed, Mana… you should not allow him so close to you…”

Jealousy and spite… that was what Neah was full of. Although Allen supposed that was his own fault..

\--

Malcolm C. Lvellie became director of the Black Order when he was only twelve years old, after the rather violent passing of his father. Link didn’t know many of the details, but as the only remaining descendant of the founder, Neah D. Campbell, he was appointed to the position by default. Link couldn’t fully call it nepotism, after all the Campbell family had a long history of holy men who opted to adopt their successors. In fact that tradition was the reason Link stood with the Black Order at all. He and his makeshift family of orphans found refuge within these walls.

Found refuge with Director Lvellie.

They didn’t have the blessing of god that many of the exorcists carried, but that alone hadn’t held much importance in years. Afterall the Order’s sister organization, the Archive… the Bookmen, had long since been able to catalog all manners of magic and mysticism. The blessed were called Accommodators of God’s Will and Link… well, he had no such blessing. Instead he had spent years alongside his siblings learning magic and combat, hands bloodied and bandaged. If the Accommodators were God’s holy doves, they were the Crows.

They flew just as high and yet their wings were pitch black.

At the end of the day they all stood together as exorcists, a single force against all manner of demonic beings.

“You’ve done well in your training, Link… it is your dedication that allows me to call you an exorcist today…” he heard Lvellie say; Link even watched him form the words and still it was a shock to hear such praise. For the briefest of moment he fell behind Lvellie’s pace, taking a few quick steps to catch up.

“Thank you, Sir.”

“I apologize for calling on you so late for this meeting… when I contacted the Archive both Bookman and his apprentice were away,” he began, a look of distaste forming over his lips. He looked as if he was in pain, his hand lifting to rest against his temple. Link knew of the Bookmen only in passing. In his most early lessons they had learned the history of it all. Neah had founded the Order, fostered the first generation of Exorcists. In turn his twin brother Mana, who many said was sick in the mind, founded the Archive, a vast collection of knowledge, locked away in the Campbell manor.

There they kept detailed history of the world, watched for ill omens, kept the knowledge of what creatures the Order encountered and what methods were used to vanquish them. They were the brains behind the entire operation. They decided what was basic knowledge and what was rare enough that need not be mentioned.

They even decided on what magic the Crows were meant to learn and what magic was not fit for human eyes.

Link knew all of this and yet he did not know what Bookman and Lavi’s absence meant. As far as he knew they, and a handful of golems, were they only ones that comprised the entire Archive staff… there was a director surely, but Link had never heard of him. He knew nothing of Mana’s descendants, or if he had any at all…

Lvellie straightened himself once more and leveled Link with a look that spoke of seriousness and discretion. “In their absence we will be meeting with Director Walker, himself.” he said, almost spitting out the name. “What I tell you now is not so much a secret as a disgrace which I have yet to find a way to rectify. The Archive and the Order, as you know, have stood for over three hundred years and both were founded by  the Campbell family…” he explained, his gaze wandering if only for a moment. He wrinkled his nose and stopped short in his explanation.

Link followed his pained expression, finding the source and staring for a long moment. Lenalee, one of the blessed ones, was further along in the atrium near to the gate itself. Next to her stood a peculiar looking young man with bleach white hair and scar that passed over his eye in an intense and jagged red shape that looked almost like a star upon his forehead… and he was dressed… as if he belonged in a history book, elegant and in the same sort of attire he saw in the portraits of the long dead Campbell family. A waistcoat, a dainty tie about his  neck, white gloves and a top hat, cane in his hand.

“As mad as ever, it seems…” he heard Lvellie say as he approached the two. The white haired man turned to face them both and Link stopped short when he saw the details of his face. He looked young, like a teenager, but perhaps just on the cusp of adulthood like himself. One of his eyes was a soft blue, like the summer sky, but the other burned red with a pupil that looked just barely larger than the other..

A cursed child, that was what their textbooks taught. Red eyes like this were an omen, and a bad one at that, the clear cut sign of a curse.

“Director Lvellie, it is good to see you again… when was it last, you were still a young man I believe, twenty, twenty-two?” the cursed stranger asked. “Lenalee, have I told you how sweet Malcolm was as a child, it really is baffling how he turned into such a serious man…” he waved one of his gloved hands through the air with flourish. “You used to sit on my lap and read to me in the parlor, I remember it so clearly…”

Lenalee lifted a hand, trying to hide the smile on her lips as Allen teased and poked fun at the older man.

Lvellie scoffed lightly, ignoring his words and opting instead to speak over them. “Link, this is the vampire Allen Walker… he works with the Archive and is a helpful resource when it comes to his knowledge of the supernatural…” he said, almost hissing out the word vampire as he turned to Allen expectantly. “I believe you are here to offer our newest Crow a key and tour of the Archives…”

Allen’s lips curled into an amused sort of smirk and Link tensed when he saw proof of Lvellie’s words, a sharp fang just barely breaching his lips as he grinned. “You’re one of the Bookmen?” Link asked uncertainty.

“Mm… I am the Director of the Archive, actually… as Mana Campbell’s son, the Archive is my birthright, though it does annoy Malcolm to no end, I am certain of that…” he said softly, his hips swaying just slightly as if he couldn’t stand it be still a moment longer. Honestly, he looked ready to burst at the seams with laughter.

“You’ve certainly dressed the part, at least…” Lenalee added idly, “I don’t think I’ve seen you this way before…”

“Honestly I only do it because it drives Director Lvellie up the walls…” he said, lifting his hand as if he was gossiping in secret, despite speaking clearly for all to hear.

“Hm.. well, if you would be so kind as to carry out your duties and escort Crow Link, I would be most grateful…” he turned to Lenalee, frowning a bit. “I imagine your brother wouldn’t be pleased to know you are out of bed so late, let alone consorting with a vampire…”

Lenalee let out an insulted huff and rested a hand on her hip. Allen reached out almost instantly, pressing a gentle hand to her shoulder. “He is right, Lenalee… it would be best for you to be on your way, sinister things come out of the darkness.” She frowned a bit at that and yet seemed to give in all the same, offering a soft farewell and heading toward the dormitories.

Link watched her leave before his attention was caught by the flash of something gold and glistening. In Allen’s hand lay an ornate set of keys, each looking to be of varying size and style. Old and new.

“Come see me in the morning, Link…” Director Lvellie said as he looked away from Allen and instead at Link, tilting his head back in an authoritative manner. Link nodded in understanding, lifting his hand to salute.

“This way, Mr. Link… we will be needing a real door, not a gate such as this…” Allen called, walking idly as he flipped through the various keys. Link faltered only a moment before he left Lvellie’s side and instead fell in line alongside the vampire. “This will be your set of keys when we have finished here.”

Link frowned at that. “My set… if you could please explain?” he said, watching the way Allen stopped short and turned to look at him, staring directly at him in a way most others did not. Most people, even Lvellie seemed to look past him and it made sense, exorcists died often. They were fleeting, no need to look at them too closely.

Allen looked him in the eye though and it was unsettling, Link admitted to himself.

“The Archive was once a specific location, the Campbell manor, but about 260 years ago we used a fair bit of magic to enclose the entirety of the manor in a pocket dimension of sorts, I believe you’ve learned about this…” he said simply, turning to face Link more fully. “We more commonly call it the Ark, it still has a physical location, but it is hidden… if I recall correctly it floats somewhere over the East Sea.” He waved a hand, going back to flipping through his keys. “In any case it is a great deal larger than it was when I was a child, more like a damn village than a manor… the keys allow you to use any door in the world to enter the Ark, thus the varying types… need to fit everything, after all…”

Finally he picked one out and made his way to what Link knew was meant to be one of many dorm room. Allen pressed the key into the lock and turned it, a small snake of light glimmered from around the door’s edges and just as quick it was gone.

When Allen opened the door the other side was bright and beautiful, a vast lake and field of long grass that swayed in a wind Link could not feel against him. In the distance he saw white buildings stacked and towering and at the precipice what he knew to be the Campbell manor standing in all its opulence and glory, looking as well kept as it did in old paintings.

Pathways led in multiple directions, signs with a strange sort of text that looked more like random lines and dots marked each way, but Link understood none of it. An arched bridge, deep red like the ones he’d read about in Asian lands, crossed over the lake and toward the main entrance of the manor and Allen stepped to the side, gesturing as if he were a butler welcoming guests.

“The Ark, Crow Link…” he said simply. Link began to walk, his feet moving though he still felt in awe of what was before him. He glanced behind to see the passage they had come through and saw only a small structure with a single door, likely the one that linked to each and every key.

“Most things you should encounter you already know how to deal with, of course… vampires, the werewolves, common demons, etcetera.. But if you should encounter something unique, this is where you would come for your information… it can be a bit of a maze, so do try to keep up..” Allen said as he started out over the crimson bridge, heading toward the main structure.

It seemed a useless command as Link was quick to match Allen’s gait as they walked, glancing at the white haired man. Everything he knew seemed to be uncertain now, the idea that a vampire held such a high position within the Archive and, by association, the Black Order was, honestly, a bit mad.

It was only that thought that seemed to help shake loose something else strange about this whole matter. In this place, in this moment, they stood in daylight. Link glanced skyward, confirming that indeed the sun shone bright in the sky.

“You don’t burn…” he mumbled softly, as if to himself.

“I assure you, I do… but that is not the true sun. The sun, the wind, it all exists here as a shadow of the real thing, a memory...” he mumbled idly, looking out over the land with an almost sad sort of expression passing over his features. “It can be changed and altered, we have added to things over time, but honestly I prefer it this way.”

Link hummed softly in response. He never thought he’d be here, standing with a vampire, one of his so-called enemies, expressing such melancholy. Sure, he knew that deep down many creatures like vampires had once been human and still possessed some final vestige of emotions. They felt…

But it was not common practice to consider the idea. Vampires were monsters that preyed upon mankind, feasting on the life blood of Link’s own. He couldn’t help a small shudder at the thought. Allen looked odd, certainly, but still he was unassuming. Some might even say he appeared delicate or beautiful, and yet he was a monster… a beast that could so easily tear into a man and leave him broken in the dirt.

As they neared the main door it came open, a bright golden golem adorned with the marking of a cross shape buzzed up to Allen. It bobbed before the man a moment, pulling a smile from Allen as he carefully pulled one of his gloves free.

Link lifted a hand to hold back his gasp as he looked at the dark red skin. Allen’s nails were jagged and pitch black, curling into a perch for the gold golem. His skin looked much like the scar on his face, deep red with bits of what looked like metal embedded in the back of his palm to form the four points of a cross.

He almost missed the sound of Allen cooing gently to the golem as he watched that cursed hand glide through the air. Rude as he thought it may be, he simply couldn’t let what he saw pass by unnoticed.

“You’re cursed, quite heavily so…” he mumbled, his own hand lifting palm up to ask silent permission.

“Ah..? I suppose I had not noticed…” he joked softly, glancing back at Link with narrowed eyes twinkling with mirth. He seemed to consider Link’s out reached hand for a long moment before gently settling his cursed palm atop it.

“It almost.. Looks like stigmata. When did this happen?”

The golden golem looked a bit annoyed to have lost Allen’s hand to sit upon and instead moved to claim Allen’s hair as it’s new perch, nestling in much like a cat in a shagged carpet. Allen hummed softly as his top hat was knocked askew and fell to the ground, seeming to not care as he watched Link’s curious expression.

“Mm.. you need not worry, little Crow, it does not pain me as a holy wound would. Not anymore at least, I was born with this curse…” he explained, gently curling his claw like fingers and withdrawing his hand from Link’s grasp when the man’s fingers brushed against the molted edges of the cross shape. He lifted a single finger to poke the golem atop his head.

“Look at the mess you caused, Tim… you’ve made the Crow worry for us…” he scolded softly, pulling back when the golem’s mouth opened and moved to bite, it’s small paws gathering Allen’s hair as it held on to him. Allen reached down to gently gather his hat from the ground, dusting it off as he walked through the open doors or the manor. Link followed after, his eyes lingering on the white haired man curiously. Lvellie had seemed to find distaste with Allen and, in theory, Link could understand why but so far all Link could see was a listless young man that seemed to float across the entryway, gentle and maybe even sad in a way he’d seen before in this own siblings. As if the world simply weighed him down.

Allen offered Link a soft sort of smile as he glanced back at him. “Shall we see the catalog room then?” he suggested. Link nodded in obedient response, readying himself to follow Allen once more.

The catalog was the easiest room to find, old fashioned and with card catalogs that filled the entirety of the room. Every subject, every creature meticulously kept categorized for whoever should need such information. Golems buzzed idly about, opening drawers and putting away cards, some even looking ready to fall beneath the weight of books they carried in their tiny little paws.

The manor, without surprise, was vast and twisted and part of Link was reminded of the so called Wincester house filled with dead ends and false doorways meant to confuse spirits. Allen explained that many doors had nothing on the other side because the space was simply not yet needed. Somehow it seemed that Allen could add or remove spaces however he pleased, which explained how he seemed so at ease walking about.

He protested the notation quite quickly, however.

“It takes time, I assure you… when we first brought the manor into the Ark I got turned around nearly every day. About fell off the damn thing when I walked through a wrong way… you would do well to remember to watch where you step..” he warned, lips pursed as if the memory pained him. “You would get stuck in a void until someone noticed you were missing, and with how often exorcists come and go of their own accord, that is not your best hope..”

Link couldn’t help the amused smile that turned the corners of his lips at that and Allen picked up on it in an instant. “My my, Mr. Link… are you laughing at my misfortune… how terrible of you..” he joked, his own lips curling into a carefree sort of grin, those sharp fangs dangerous and glinting.

“I would never..” he responded, somehow no longer nervous at the sight of such teeth.

Allen smiled, swaying as he twirled in a small circle. “Well, as lovely as this has all been, Mr. Link, it seems I must scold you now…” he said gently, turning away from Link, bringing a small frown to the blonde’s lips, confused by Allen’s words.

In a flash Link found himself on the ground, crowded into a corner. His backside ached from the fall, his head smacking back against bookcases filled to the brim even as he looked up in shock. Allen stood above him, one foot digging into his chest to hold him down. His clawed hand was tight around Link’s tie, pulling and straining his windpipe just barely with the force.

“You’ve become comfortable with me, Mr. Link… you seem to care not what I am…” Allen taunted as he leaned in, speaking flush against the blonde’s ear. He pulled a bit harsher on Link’s tie, tugging his head to one side with a surprising amount of force. “I would not hurt you for no reason, of course, but this is a lesson that must be learned…”

His breath was hot against Link’s skin and Link summoned his talismans, watching them flutter into the air and, with a shock of realization, they fell to the floor uselessly. Allen was the director of the Archive, he knew what Crows learned, he knew how Link’s magic worked. And could clearly undo it.

“I am glad you fight back, little Crow, but truth be told you should not have let me this close in the first place… need I remind you you are human…” he said as he kept closer, pressing in against Link. “You smell of warm flesh and blood.” Link shuddered as he felt Allen’s smile pressing into his neck, heard the sick inhale of his breath as he took in Link’s scent. “And virginity.. You are a treat, little Crow… tempting to my kind like sweet cream cakes set before glutinous children..” he sounded breathless as he spoke, strained even.

Allen drew back slowly, looking down at Link for a long moment before he released the man’s tie and instead let his dark clawed fingers glide gently over the blonde’s cheek, as if to be soothing. His cursed red eye glowed in the shadow his figure cast over Link. A gasp tore from Link’s throat as he felt the bit of wetness caught under Allen’s thumb and smeared against his cheek, having not noticed his own tears. “I apologize for making you cry. Lvellie is a paranoid man upsetting Lenalee as he did early this evening, but he makes a valid point, you understand..”

Allen straightened his back, taking a couple of well measured steps back and out of Link’s personal space. “You exorcists seem to forget so easily what I am simply because I smile sweetly… it is dangerous to act in such a way…” he mumbled, glancing to the side with something like shame in his eyes. He shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other before withdrawing the set of keys from his pocket once more and leaving them atop a nearby desktop.

“Tim…” Allen called, the golden golem, likely dislodged from Allen’s hair with his sudden movement, fluttered back to the man’s hand where it rested against the desktop. “See that Mr. Link finds his way home safe and sound, would you?”

The golem canted it’s body to the side like a curious animal, but then walked across the desktop to perch itself alongside Link’s new set of keys, it’s long tail wrapping around its body as it waited patiently.

Link scarcely moved, watching with still wide eyes as Allen turned away and headed into the hall. The sound of his footsteps lingered only a moment or so before finally all he heard was the dull buzz of little black golems already picking up scattered papers and books at Link’s feet.


End file.
